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The motel was dingy, Naim could admit that. The lettering on the neon sign flickered every few seconds, a low hum of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, walls peeled with, probably older than him, yellow floral wallpaper, and those carpets were so caked with dust and time passed it made Naim sick to his stomach just looking at it. But, with the combined money he and Ryan had it was the best they could do for now.
Naim was settled in a chair as Ryan, the more confident of the two, talked with the receptionist, pushing a wad of money in her direction. She counted it painfully slow with her manicured red nails, looking up at Ryan, then behind him at the disheveled Naim. The dark haired boy turned away, avoiding her gaze with a low breath.
He just wanted to shower, despite showering once he arrived home from the old mill, he could still feel the caked in sweat and smell of smoke. He shivered at the memory of the night before, the primal fear, the pain his body endured, everything felt like an open wound as he tried to recount the moments in his head. Burning and sizzling with pain in the confines of his brain.
Ryan finally got handed a small silver key, a tag reading 619 attached on the keyring. Ryan nodded his head towards the door, ushering Naim out of the lobby into the last remnants of sunlight. The skyline was painted in oranges, purples, pinks, and even the last trails of blue hovered over him. Naim took a deep breath of fresh air, only coming back into reality as Ryan’s hand slid onto the space between his shoulder blades.
“C’mon,” he whispered, “we both need sleep.” Naim followed wordlessly, following Ryan blindly up the staircase to the upper level of the motel. They both ignored the wavering eyes of older couples smoking cigarettes outside their rooms, the lingering feeling of their stares pitting in the back of their heads. They kept moving.
Ryan shoved the key into the door, twisting it and pushing the door open. It was thankfully cleaner than the lobby, bed tidy and carpeted floors looking at least vacuumed. The blonde dropped his bag onto a provided desk chair, unzipping it and pulling out bundles of clothes he had packed.
Naim stood awkwardly in the center of the room, looking around the space as if he was waiting for permission to move. His eyes fell on Ryan’s frame, sighing softly. He was safe, he was with Ryan, far away from the hellscape which was his home. He could let the muscles that were overworked and stretched tight relax.
Naim shucked the jacket off his shoulders, laying it over the side of the TV stand. His arms were decorated with bruises, new and old, purple fingerprint marks decorating his skin like ornaments on a tree. He barely heard the soft hitch of breath, the rush of footsteps, and before he could blink Ryan was in front of him.
Ryan’s touch was soft, gentle, and caring. His fingers ghosted over the marks, lips wringing with worry as he looked up at Naim.
“It hurt you,” Ryan muttered, pulling the sleeves of Naim’s shirt up his arms to map out every nick or bruise on his skin. His wandering hands trailed up to the scrape along his brow, lighting outlining the mark with his fingertip.
“It hurt you too,” Naim replied simply, breath hitching at the tender skin being touched. Ryan pulled his hand away, instead moving it up to cradle Naim’s face in his palm. The pad of his thumb stroked over his cheekbone, and in the wake of his touch Ryan leaned in, pressing his lips to his temple.
“Go shower, yeah? You need it,” Ryan said into Naim’s skin, forcing himself to pull away. Ryan’s hand remained planted on Naim’s face, stroking the soft skin against his.
“”I need it”?” Naim laughed weakly, a teasing smile curling up on his lips. Ryan’s eyes softened, his own lips bunching up on his cheeks in a grin.
“Yeah, absolutely,” Ryan teased one last time, forcing his eyes away from Naim to look down at his bag. He pulled the bag wide, tossing out some clothes onto the bed. “You can wear these; we can wash your clothes tomorrow.” Naim plucked the pajamas from the mattress, already smelling the comforting scent of Ryan and home on the fabric. It muted his alight nerves, calming his buzzing mind to a low rumble.
Naim looked up at Ryan, who stood in front of the window facing out to the parking lot. The sun finally setting upon their rest stop in Melbourne. Like a flash of lightning he remembers the night where “Ryan” stood outside his window, staring back at him like it was the real thing. He licked his lips, taking a strained breath and turning from the window.
Ryan took notice, turning back to the window and quickly shutting the blinds. It was a silent conversation that didn’t need words, Ryan knew the pain and fear all too well.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Ryan called, settling down on the bed as he flicked the old, nearly analog TV on. It hummed with static before honing in some random sitcom. Though, he didn’t watch the show, instead just needing the background noise as he focused on the whirr of the shower starting. Being alone, even with an open bathroom door and closed curtains it didn’t make the anxiety go away.
From where Ryan sat he could look partially into the bathroom. Watching Naim’s arms move as they washed his dark hair, barely outlined in the haze of the glass shower door. Ryan looked down at his own hands, finding his own stream of bruises and cuts decorating his skin. He could still feel the sting of his ear where it was crudely bitten off by It. The reality of what their new life was was beginning to settle in, this thing, this entity was following them for life, not something they could ever shake off. It was the physical embodiment of fear, Ryan accustomed it to.
The shower didn’t last long, the anxiety of even being in a room alone becoming overbearing for Naim. He quickly dried and dressed himself in Ryan’s clothes, breathing in the natural scent that belonged to him. The tank-top Ryan wore so often in the heat of Australia summer was now on Naim, and oddly enough it felt like it was perfectly fit for him.
His body was sore from top to toe, mind exhausted beyond comprehension. When he wiped off the steam on the hotel mirror he could gaze upon his tired eyes, but in the deep color of his eyes he could pull out a glimmer of hope. He was far from home, away from the suffocating town that had its hands tightly wrapped around his neck, and he was with Ryan, his Ryan. Despite it all they had each other, and if Naim was honest with himself he could say that's all he needed.
In the reflection of the mirror Ryan approached his side, hands slipping around his waist and pulling him close. Ryan’s forehead landed on his shoulder, pressing a tender kiss to the bare skin. He didn’t say much, instead he breathed in Naim’s skin and seeked the warmth of his hands. Their fingers laced together, tightening up on one another like the fear of losing each other was closer to reality than ever.
It was a constant fight to remember that they were safe, and as long as they were together nothing could hurt them. Naim turned around in Ryan’s hold, pulling his face up with both of his hands. His pointer finger brushed against the tenderness of his ear, slipping to the back of his head to lace with the blond curls. Ryan leaned in, taking Naim in for a soft kiss.
Ryan breathed in every breath that came from Naim, taking his life force into his own body and breathing it back out. Like their souls were so intertwined it was a tightening knot. His cheeks and lips were damp from the shower, yet Ryan didn’t mind. All he wanted was right in front of him, he wasn’t going to let clammy skin stop that.
When Ryan did finally pull away, the two chased breath that was lost in the mess of their kiss, panting against each others mouths with wide, glossy eyes that spoke more words than their mouths could. A silent we’re safe translated with a couple warm glances.
“Will you sit by the door, just so I’m not that alone?” Ryan asked, his voice wavering like a scared child. Of course, Naim nodded without much hesitation.
“Yeah, I will,” Naim assured. His palms running down the expanse of Ryan’s arms and down to his hands. He pulled Ryan’s hands up, kissing the length of his fingers and rings before dropping them in front of himself.
Naim stepped out of the way, settling right against the door frame while facing the hotel bedroom. His head knocked to the wooden frame, resting against it as exhaustion creeped into his eyes. Half-lidded and desperate for sleep. Yet, he forced himself awake just to protect Ryan, that was more important than anything.
Naim blindly reached behind him, gathering up his used clothes and pulling them in front of him. He plucked the lighter from zip-ups pocket, flicking the sparkwheel until a soft glow of flame appeared in front of him. His breath felt stuck in his lungs, remembering how the monster wearing Ryan’s face squealed and screamed with the mark of the flame. He shivered, dropping the lighter into his lap.
It hurt his head how real it felt, how real It’s lips felt, It’s touch, It’s gaze, he wondered how something like this could even be real. But it was, it was real, it was their reality now. The shower cut off again, shuffling noises of drying of skin and sliding of clothes onto Ryan’s body. He turned around as Ryan’s steps made it to Naim’s side, looking up at him freshly showered. Ryan held out a hand, pulling the dark haired boy from the floor and meeting his eyes again.
Naim stared into the deep blue of his eyes, finding the comfort he seeked and so desperately craved. Ryan pressed his hand to the small of Naim’s back, pulling him into the bedroom area. Ryan pulled the bedding down, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Their hair was wet, clothes thrown about the floor, backpack ripped apart with their belongings scattered on the desk and bed, neither could care. It had been an excruciating long night and day for the two of them. As Naim clicked the TV off, he settled on the opposite side of the bed, hesitating on taking too much space and instead crowding himself on the edge.
Ryan laid flat against his pillow, eyes tracking Naim’s movements. The glow of moonlight casted a soft light into the room, giving the blonde just enough light to trace the shape of Naim’s nose and round eyes. Naim laid stiff in the bed, not moving as his eyes forcefully closed. Ryan breathed low through his nose, turning onto his side to face Naim more directly.
Ryan reached a hand out, laying it over Naim’s waist and pulling him close into his side. Naim gasped at the pull, looking at Ryan like he was crazy. The blonde pressed his face into the latter's shoulder, kissing his skin once again. “Don’t go far,” Ryan whispered, pressing his forehead against Naim’s temple.
Naim shifted onto his side, facing Ryan directly. His eyes fluttered shut, breathing through the tightness in his chest. His mind couldn’t stop with the repetitive phrases of I’m safe that swirled in his head like a tornado. Wrecking every thought that made chase in his head.
Ryan leaned in, his hand around Naim’s waist coming to his upper back. When Naim was pulled even closer to Ryan’s frame their lips collided. Nipped and split lips made contact with equally injured lips, but neither cared, or bothered to voice the burn of kissing. It didn’t matter, not when they were finally free for the first time in their life. Despite the ache that naturally came from running away, and the buzz of anxiety that knocked around their heads, kissing managed to quiet those noises down. Mellowing out the waves of chaos in their brains until all that remained was each other's name.
Naim was first to pull back this time, resting his forehead against Ryan’s with fluttered eyes. He could feel the warmth of his body closing in on him, surrounding him in comfort and easing him down into sleep.
Tomorrow was Sunday, a day where most of their time was spent in a pew listening to songs pour out from everyone’s lungs and hands were gracefully lifted into the air. And for the first time in Naim and Ryan’s life, that wouldn’t be the case. There wouldn’t be sermons of how to get to heaven, or how to go about life on a day to day basis in a holy way, none of that, it would just be the two of them, alone, in a space where they could entirely be themselves.
Some part of Naim’s stomach twisted at the idea of skipping church. Sure, he was long since a “good Christian boy” and honestly didn’t listen to the preacher for most of the services, but that didn’t shake the habit, the rituals, the words that were ingrained into his mind from a young age. It made him nauseous. That little part of his brain that was carved since he was a young child couldn’t quiet down, even as he trailed off into the deepness of sleep…
⊱ ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ⊰
The pews felt suffocating, they always did. The full seats, people pressing on either side of Naim, the singing, god the singing was so loud. It made Naim’s head spin and spill into an ache in his stomach. Hunter's dad was at the front, fighting through tears over his son’s unfortunate death. He could see his mother side eyeing him, as if she knew that the same thing that killed Hunter was chasing after him
Hunter’s father took a low breath, squeezing his hands together as his wife tearfully looked up at him. Izzie was solemn next to her mother, picking at her nails as her father tried to desperately keep himself together. Naim’s stomach twisted further, turning to face his own lap with bated breath. It felt as if everyone knew, everyone knew what he did, what he in turn caused.
“My son…” he started, taking a long, steady breath, “he was sick.”
He was sick? That’s what he wanted to lead with? Naim almost scoffed, looking to the side where his mother was glancing between him and the front. Her perfectly worried expression became suspicious and almost… disgusted?
“He was sick with sin, and that’s what killed him. This illness, this sickness inside him, we weren’t able to cure. But parents, mothers and fathers, you still have time.” The pastor gripped the microphone in his hand tightly, looking behind himself to face the cross on the wall.
“You can save your children, save them from what my son was led to. That pure, lustful sin that ruins them,” he spoke steady, those tears that lingered in his eyes drying rather quickly. Naim averted his attention to Ryan who sat with his parents a few pews away. His blonde curls curled over the scar on his ear.
“Naim for instance.” Naim turned to the pastor, eyes blowing wide. Murmurs spread across the congregation, mothers lingering judging eyes on him. His shoulders cowered, nails digging into his palm as the pastor slowly trekked down the empty middle. “I see it, I see you’re hurting, I see that sin inside you.” Naim looked up at the older man, head shaking from side to side.
“Mum,” Naim reached out, grabbing onto Arlene’s hand before she ripped that same hand away. Her eyebrows furrowed, that disappointed look in her eyes, “Mum please,” he pleaded. The pastor grew closer, stepping between Arlene and the pew and suddenly he was in front of Naim. Naim looked behind the pastor, finding Ryan looking at him with those same wide, worried eyes.
“Don’t-” Suddenly, the pastor grabbed him by his collar, ripping him up from his seat.
“You need to be cleansed of this, wash it away, let God take this sin out of you,” he spoke as if he was possessed, filled to the brim with hate and fear.
“Don’t touch me! Let go-” Naim fought, trying to shake the hands off of him. His mother only pushed him further by a hand on the back, pushing him into the pastor's grip further. “Get off!”
The pastor dragged him to the front, pushing him down onto his knees in front of the wooden crucifix settled on the beige wall in front of him. He had seen it over a hundred times at that point, yet sitting before it felt intimidating. The pastor held him in a kneeling position by his shoulders, leaning to Naim’s ear to say in a hushed whisper, “It’s time.”
“Mum! Mum please, don’t let them do this!” Naim shook, thrashed, writhed in the hold, trying to push himself up and out of the stance but the pastor's grip only tightened. Tears streamed down his flushed cheeks in thick drops, traveling the line of his jaw down to the point of his chin. Dribbling off onto the wooden floor below.
The deliverance healer stepped into view, his flame coming out once more from the tucked away lighter in his pocket. Naim screamed, kicking away as the hands on him kept him pinned. His wrinkled lips murmured that prayer, whispering into the “holy” flame before clicking the metal lid down. The flame disappeared, and within seconds Naim was convulsing on the floor. Eyes bulging from their sockets. His muscles were screaming, cramping all over as the breath in his lungs was choked out.
Naim’s head fell against the wooden floor, making his ears ring as he faced the crowd behind him. His mother sat motionless, lips pressed in that flat, firm line like it always was. And Ryan, he was crying. Through his body fighting to survive, he spat out what words were left inside him.
“I’m sorry.”
Naim wakes up with a gasp of air. His body shot up from the mattress with a jolt of lightning. The breath in his lungs was labored, desperate for air as his heart pounded and punched against his ribs. Tears streamed down his face, his face was hot, and his whole body trembled and shook with nerves.
Naim placed a palm over his chest, trying to catch the racing of his heart.
From his left side, a croaking voice came into ear. “Naim? What happened? …Did you see it?” Ryan asked, his voice thick and raspy with sleep. He pressed his palms into the mattress, pushing himself up to be at level with Naim. His warm hand rested on Naim’s back, tracing vague lines with his dull nails.
Naim shakily turned to Ryan, tears lining his eyes. His eyelids and nose were that deep pink tone, lips parted in gentle waves of trembles, he was teetering on full blown sobbing, Ryan knew that much. Naim shook his head, taking a stuttered breath and beginning to speak, “Just a dream.” His lips pressed into a line, fighting against sobbing then and there.
Ryan let out a soft sigh, slipping his hand onto Naim’s side and pulling him close. The dark haired boy buried his face into Ryan’s shoulder, fisting his shirt in his hands tightly. “Just a dream, ‘s not real,” Ryan whispered.
“But it felt so real.” Naim cried into Ryan’s skin, “Everything felt real, like it was happening again,” he sputtered.
“What was it about?”
Naim swallowed around his tears, reaching a hand up to brush the ones on his cheeks away. He pulled back from Ryan, shifting to lay down on his tear soaked pillow. Ryan followed, facing him with just inches between them. The blonde could feel the puffs of air against his own lips. He reached a hand up, dragging the pad of his thumb beneath Naim’s eyes.
“Was in church. Hunter’s dad was talking and he came up and grabbed me,” Naim paused, swallowing down the lump in his throat, “and that fucking healer came and held the lighter to my face… it felt just like the first time it happened.” Ryan’s blue eyes softened, sighing with pity as it was a feeling he knew too well.
Silently, Ryan shuffled even closer to Naim, tucking his arms over his middle and cradled him close to his body. One hand on the back of his head, curling through his dark locks. “It’s over, we are far away from that guy, he can’t hurt us anymore.” Naim nodded into his hand, taking a deep breath of Ryan’s natural scent, one he grew to associate with comfort and warmth.
“He’s hours away, he’s not gonna find us,” Ryan assured, “You’re safe now.” Safe was a loose word. The lurking entity that haunted them was never gonna go away, never going to disappear for as long as they live. But that man, the one who caused them this eternal pain, was long gone from their lives.
Ryan tipped Naim’s head back just to meet his eyes, puffy and red rimmed along his lash line. The blonde leaned in, pressing their mouths together. The warmth from Ryan’s body travelled to Naim’s, soothing his shot nerves from firing off any further, stopping the scared train of thoughts in his brain immediately. Naim relaxed in his kiss, body finally giving in with exhaustion. Ryan pulled off his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth and the top of his sharp cheekbone.
“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Ryan whispered, the sleep in his body slowly taking hold and washing Naim under its spell too. Naim’s eyes fell half-lidded, taking in Ryan’s face in his eyes as the last thing he looked at before drifting off.
Naim fell asleep with no further issue, Ryan’s warm presence and soothing words comforted him even through the deepest part of his sleep. His dreams were quiet, so miniscule they were hardly even remembered in the morning.
As the sun peaked through drawn curtains, Naim slowly woke up. He felt warm all over, and not just warm with sleep it was definitely warmer with Ryan’s body laid against his. His arms were still wrapped around his body, as if shielding him from further nightmares. And to Naim, he chose to believe that it was the reason he slept soundly after waking up in the dead of night.
Sure, they were huddled up against one another before his nightmare, but feeling Ryan’s breath against his cheeks, and feeling the thrum of his pulse against their touching chests grounded him, keeping him in reality even in sleep
Naim pushed himself up off the bed, feeling Ryan’s arms slip off from him. He looked down at the blonde, seeing his face wrinkle in disappointment at Naim’s departure before relaxing back down to sleep. Naim felt like Ryan’s cologne and natural scent was stuck to his skin, like a constant wave of comfort that numbed the panicked thoughts in his head.
His mind still felt shaky after his nightmare, that choking feeling of the deliverance healer spiritually grasping his throat like the first time all over again. His body felt weak with joints that were loose and muscles too weak to keep a hold of Naim’s frame. He breathed low, rubbing his face with his palms. Pushing the sleep out from his eyelids with the tips of his fingers.
The outside world buzzed with morning traffic and commuters heading to work. The Melbourne sun was already making the room hotter with each passing second. Naim kicked the covers off, swinging his legs over the mattress and standing up.
His throat was sore, like he was screaming out for his mother to save him in real life. He made his way to the bathroom, turning the tap on and cupping his hands under the stream. Naim brought the water to his lips, drinking up until the rough feeling in his throat disappeared. When he finally pulled up to meet his eyes, he could see the exhaustion pooling in bags under his eyelids.
Gently, he dragged his fingers across the scrapes on his brow and chin, remembering how the entity threw him so roughly to the ground in that warehouse. He bit at the inside of his cheek, tilting his head to the side to find fading fingerprint bruises against his skin. A mark of where that so-called healer held his face tight.
“Naim?” A broken voice echoed out, “Where did you go?” Ryan sounded scared, Naim couldn’t blame him when each moment alone was another chance for the entity to appear. He tore his vision off himself, walking back into the bedroom.
Ryan looked incredibly endearing, hair messed up, imprints of the sheets decorating his arms, eyelids half lidded, surely coming out of the deepest sleep. “You look fucked up,” Naim laughed for the first time in a while, and of course it was to make fun of the blonde instead of admitting how cute he thought Ryan looked in that moment. Ryan’s sleepy smile widened at the bells of Naim’s laugh ringing.
Ryan rolled his eyes, falling back amongst the pillows, “You’re not better, your hair is all tangled and messy,” he groaned, reaching his arms above his head to stretch. Naim stepped back to the bedside, crawling back on the mattress next to the blonde. His arms instinctively wrapped around Naim’s waist, pulling him close. His nose buried itself into Naim’s neck, breathing him in. Naim let himself be held, carding his fingers through the blonde tresses to slowly wake Ryan up from his sleep. .
“Did you sleep the rest of the night? Any more dreams?”
Naim shook his head, resting his cheek against the crown of Ryan’s head. “No more dreams.”
⊱ ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ⊰
Ryan was stressed getting into bed the next night. His breath felt tight in his chest, his hands shaking with a tremor, and his mind a wreck as it tried convincing himself that it was safe to sleep. He was far away from that healer, his mom, hell that entire town. They couldn’t hurt Ryan and him anymore, they were safe.
But that feeling, the raw, primal fear that coursed through his veins was hard to shake. No matter how many kilometers were between himself and that town. Ryan was exhausted, a day of walking around in the Melbourne sun looking for jobs, both trying to find a place that would hire the both of them so they would for sure never be alone was hard. The second both applied the managers of these shops would hesitantly take both, as if turning them in together tainted them. But, one had Ryan and Naim holding out on hope.
Either way, the night was settling in, the moon rising above the Australian horizon, casting the sun away to cool off the scalding earth. The darkness began to creep in, and before either of them started seeing It they hitched a bus back to the motel.
Naim stood in the bathroom splashing his face, trying to shock his system back to normal before he laid down in the bed. The cold water on his skin made his whole body shiver, but it worked on clearing the mess of thoughts in his head. Naim gripped either side of the sink, panting between cupped hands full of water onto his face.
But then, a lighter click startled him from the thoughts.
Naim peaked around the door frame, finding Ryan lighting up a blunt in the bedroom. He was sitting at the foot of the bed, breathing in deep before exhaling out a cloud of smoke. His eyes traveled with the swirls of smoke, eventually finding Naim with his eyes peaking around the wooden frame. A soft smile peaked on his lips, reaching out with the blunt, beckoning him to his side.
Maybe just a little, just to help him sleep of course.
Naim settled on the floor by Ryan’s legs, taking the blunt between his fingers and taking a long drag. His lungs burned, throat begging for relief as the smoke filled every empty space in his chest. On his exhale, he passed it back to Ryan, leaning his head against the mattress behind him.
“Where did you even get that?” Naim laughed, already feeling the light sensation filling his brain. Ryan’s light eyes were turning pink, eyelids drooping low.
“Home, I grabbed my stash before I left.” Naim shook his head with a loose smile.
“Of course you grabbed it,” Naim teased.
“I spent good money on this, I’m not letting it go to waste,” Ryan defended, passing the blunt back, “And you smoke it, so what are you complaining for.” Naim turned sideways, facing Ryan head on as he brought it to his mouth.
“I’m not complaining, just making fun of you,” Naim took another hit, blowing the smoke up at Ryan teasingly.
“So rude,” Ryan huffed, grabbing the lighter out again to relight the end. It was close to snuffing out, the red, burnt ends turning to ash. The click of the lighter made Naim’s mind shift, body trailing with goosebumps as the memory of Ryan’s entity came back into his mind. Everytime he had a moment of silence he could hear the screaming, screeching sounds that came from it. How it writhed and kicked with Ryan’s face. And of course the metallic click of it closing sent Naim back to the sight of Ryan’s seizing body when the deliverance healer clicked the lighter shut. Naim took the blunt as soon as Ryan finished lighting it, trying his hardest to get high enough to forget that memory.
“Hey, slow down, you’re gonna make yourself sick,” Ryan scolded, eyebrows raising at Naim’s urgency. “Naim, what happened?” It was clear that something bothered the brunette. Naim shook his head, coughing out a cloud of weed smoke.
“Just remembered something.” Naim looked at the lighter in Ryan’s palm.
“What? What was it?”
Naim bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the high take over his body. “Just when that guy cursed you, and the warehouse the other night, where I… killed It I guess.” Naim swallowed the lump in his throat, rolling his head to lay against Ryan’s thigh. He was far gone, the drug taking over his body and relaxing every muscle that was still wound up and taut. “I don’t know, the lighter just reminded me.”
Ryan took the blunt into his right hand, reaching down with his left to rest on the side of Naim’s head. His fingers carded with his dark brown strands, combing out any tangles that sat in the locks. They didn’t need words, the explanation was enough, Ryan knew the pain, knew the horrors that came with the curse. Even if he didn’t fully get what Naim saw that night, even if he wishes that he could’ve been there to help, he could sympathize.
“We aren’t going anywhere alone, not anymore,” Ryan whispered, resting the blunt on the ashtray that came with his stash. Slowly, Ryan shifted off the edge of the bed, sitting down next to Naim. Their eyes were both a deep red, yet with the effects of the weed settling in, neither made an effort to avert their gaze.
It spoke a hundred words for them, a hundred unspoken things that were translated in just the simple gaze. Ryan wasn’t leaving, Naim wasn’t leaving, they weren’t going to separate. No matter how terribly bad this entity wanted them too. It wasn’t happening, and it was understood even through a simple gaze.
Naim leaned against Ryan’s side, resting his head on his shoulder like the bus ride there. He could hear the gentle, slow beat of his heart. Ryan wrapped his arm over Naim’s shoulders, squeezing the meat of his arm before drawing soothing, nondescript shapes onto his skin as if saying “I got you, you can rest now.”
When Naim’s eyes opened, they were met with his mothers bed. The white linen blanket that sat on top, her nightstand, her pocketbook on a nearby desk. It was empty, spare for Naim and the furniture. He was back in the morning after he slept in his moms room for comfort, and his dreams were filled with Ryan and his touch. But upon waking up to an empty space, he panicked.
He was terrified waking up alone, he could already feel the sweat on his skin from nerves alone. He rushed out of the room, calling out for his mother as he checked room after room. His eyes averted from all the windows, whispering a prayer that it wasn’t real. That his mother hadn’t actually left him. He sprinted into the kitchen, seeing the fleeting image of her leaving. Naim chased, almost ripping the screen door off the hinges as he stepped barefoot out onto the driveway. His mother was stepping into the car, eyes away from Naim.
“Mum! You can’t leave me alone! Mum-” She turned around, that disappointed, furrowed brow look on her face.
“You are fine, Naim. What has gotten into you?” Naim’s breath quickened, reaching up to pull at his hair with stress. “Look at you, Naim. Go inside, get cleaned up before the neighbors see.”
“Mum, please just take me with you, you can’t leave me alone, please,” Naim begged, running across the pavement. He grabbed onto her arm, stopping her from leaving. “I’ll just sit in the back, I won’t say anything, just please, please, I’m terrified mom.”
Arlene ripped her arm back from his hold, opening the car door and stepping into the seat. Naim hit his hands on the glass, jimmying the handle in desperate attempts to get in. He looked around, finding their neighbors looking with judgemental eyes. Naim only then felt the tears streaming down his cheeks. Dripping down the length of his jaw and off his chin.
His mother sighed in her seat, fighting a battle with her mind. Her fingers reached to the window button, about to bring it down before she hesitated, taking a deep breath. “You’re fine Naim, now go back inside,” she spoke through the glass.
Naim watched wide eyed as she drove away, breath picking up to a pant as panic flooded his system. He was alone, extremely alone. Naim rushed back inside, shoving whatever shoes were easily available and sliding them on. He sprinted back out the door, b-lining for the only sanctity he knew.
His feet took him far, lungs burning with racing breath, eyes shedding their tears down his face in an endless wave. He needed to be around people, that was all. It didn’t matter who, just someone who would be in the same room as him, it was all he needed.
Naim rushed up the driveway of Ryan’s house, peaking through the window like he always did before checking around the back.
Ryan was there. Standing, watching, breathing as still as possible. His eyes were slightly glazed, like he was a statue frozen in time.
“Ryan,” Naim whispered, doubled over with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch the breath in his chest. The blonde walked over, and before Naim could be welcomed into his arms a hand met his throat instead.
“NAIM!” The brunette gasped awake, eyes blowing wide with hot tears lining his eyes. His breath was completely gone, panting for the air he so desperately needed. His head was spinning, pulsing with pain as his eyes adjusted to the room. Ryan was in front of him, hands wrapped over his shoulders. His eyes were glazed over with worry and his own form of panic.
Naim looked around the room, nails boring holes into the carpet as his mind caught up. Piecing the puzzle back together of what was reality and what was a dream. The motel room, Ryan, the end of the bed where they sat curled up on one another as they dozed off.
“You’re okay, it’s okay, just another nightmare.” Ryan pulled him into a hug, holding the back of his head tenderly to keep him in place. For the first time ever, Naim wept in his arms. His hands wrapped themselves in Ryan’s shirt while he panted into the skin of his neck. Like he needed tangible proof that Ryan was with him, that he was safe.
“My m-mum fucking left me alone, I-I didn’t know what to do so I just went to you but it wasn’t you and-” Naim cut himself off with a weeping cry.
“It’s over, it's over, you're safe,” Ryan spoke with a tenderness that Naim hadn’t heard just yet. Words coated in sweet syrup that took Naim’s heightened nerves down to a ground level. Ryan reached his free hand out to cover Naim’s trembling ones, squeezing around them to give some tangible proof that what happened was just a dream, that he’s awake now and safe from those images. Naim looked around the motel room, gathering the reality that was lost between his sleep and awakeness.
He was in a motel, with Ryan, with four walls of safety around them, blinds drawn, TV whirring quietly with some random game show. His back hurt from sleeping sat up on the hard carpeted floor, his hands felt compacted with Ryan’s grip on them, and the smell of Ryan’s clothes so close made him grounded in real life.
He wasn’t there, he wasn’t living with his mother, wasn’t in that stupid small town that took everything from him. Well, everything except Ryan. Naim shook his hands from Ryan’s hold, shuffling along the floor to be directly in front of the blonde. Before the latter could say anything, Naim leaned in, wrapping his arms over Ryan’s shoulders and burying his face into his neck. His tears stained Ryan’s sleep shirt, dripping down the skin of his neck in hot streams.
Ryan without hesitation wrapped his arms tightly, holding him closer than ever before. Their body heat was shared, calming the racing of Naim’s heart to a steady pace.
Ryan had some power over Naim, some otherworldly ability to take every anxiety and worry in his brain and wash it away. He could make Naim believe in his safety more than his mother could. If Ryan said they were safe, it was the truth. Ryan tucked his head into the crook of Naim’s neck, letting him take all the time he needed to come back into reality.
“We’ll go out tomorrow, get something to help you sleep through the night,” Ryan suggested, Naim pulled back a tad, resting his forehead against Ryan’s own. Their gazes met, and the blonde reached up to brush along the underside of his puffy eyes. Ryan’s fingers rested against his cheek, holding his head carefully in the palm of his hands. “‘s okay,” he whispered, breath fanning on Naim’s lips.
Naim closed his eyes, feeling Ryan creep closer to him. The short shared distance was closing, and quick enough Ryan’s lips were on the brunettes. Naim kissed back, languidly sharing warmth and wet kisses against each other's lips. Ryan let his hand rest on the side of Naim’s neck, just as Naim wrapped his fingers into the blonde curls.
Ryan kissed his lips, moving to peck at the sharp angle of his cheekbone, then right above his brow where an angry mark laid scabbed over. His thumb brushed along the cut on his jawline, kissing above that too. Ryan showed his love through those wet kisses, never once growing to that violent entity that haunted his dreams.
This was real, this was reality.
Naim was right where he needed to be.
⊱ ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ⊰
That work opportunity actually came to fruition. They both received a call with a perky sounding manager to schedule in interviews for the shared job opportunity. It gave both a sense of relief, one less thing on their list of worries. It would be some retail job for this small business in desperate need of workers. Some tourist trap with various over the top Australian themed items. It was boring, monotonous work, but it would be work.
And most importantly, they would be together.
To celebrate, they visited the coast line for the first time. Ryan had been to that same beach when he was little, kicking sandcastles over that he made just to rebuild them all over again. Yet Naim hadn’t ever been. The sun was settling onto the horizon, casting an orange glow on the two of them.
They ran around in the shoreline, laughing as they splashed water onto one another, picking up handfulls of sand and chucking the balls at one another. Splattering against their clothes in wet stains. Their pants were rolled up to their knees, yet the ever crashing tide pooled water on the fabric. It was messy, yet it always seemed to be like that with them. Maybe that’s just how their relationship was, messy, but perfect.
For the first time in days they felt like the world of problems that surrounded them was muted. Like this demon that followed them relentlessly was gone, that the worries of their mothers hunting them down were snuffed out like the flame that caused their deepest fears.
Ryan especially was happy to see Naim smiling, it felt like the first time they met. Dragging him to this abandoned warehouse and teasing one another. Back to that feeling of budding love and desire so deep it didn’t matter what happened as long as it was with each other. It was exciting, something neither had felt before. That pure, rich love that could never be replicated.
When Naim finally collapsed in the sand, Ryan followed. Both were out of breath, exhausted from a day of running around town with what money they had to buy food and a couple more nights in the motel, and of course a sleep aid. But in that moment it felt like the rest of the world was quiet, that it was just them on the Melbourne beach and nothing else mattered.
Naim turned his head to face Ryan, seeing his closed eyes and arms resting beneath his head. His smile was permanent on his face, something Naim wanted to capture in a photograph to never let go of. Instead, he rolled on to his stomach, resting his head in his hands to just look at the blonde.
Ryan huffed, turning his face away. “I can feel you looking,” he smiled, “what is it?” Naim reached out, pulling his face back to him.
“Nothing, just looking,” Naim traced the line of his brows with the tips of his fingers, trailing down to his ear where he brushed over the scar line. A shiver traveled down Ryan’s spine at the touch, yet he didn’t pull away. Ryan playfully pulled his head back away, fighting against Naim’s incessant need to look at his face. The brunette huffed, rolling his eyes as he flopped back down against the sand.
Ryan finally gave in, pushing himself up and over Naim to peck at the corner of his lips. He lingered there, not giving into another kiss until Naim turned his head, closing the distance himself.
Everything about the world felt scary, like this part of their beings was so sinful and disgusting that it needed to be hidden. Hell, they had to run off to Melbourne just to feel free in their lives. The judging eyes of others still scared them, the looming threat of this entity that wasn’t going to just go away. But, how could something so pure, so full of love be a sin?
Ryan pulled back for air, smiling down at Naim’s boyish grin. Their heads knocked together, breathing in each others air.
If this was sin, if this was something to be ashamed of, both of them would have to go down with it. Because right then, in that moment, everything was perfect. Like hearts beating in tandem, like a red string of fate finally brought them together, like they were soulmates.
The two trekked back to the hotel once the sun began to set. Bumping into each other's bodies as they walked down the emptying streets. Pubs buzzed with life while storefronts shut down to a close. It was like their own little world, where no one cared to even look in their direction as they smiled and beamed next to one another. It was a euphoric feeling that neither had felt before.
Once back in the motel, they quickly ran through showers, washing away salt water and beach sand down the drain. Their skin was sunkissed in pink blooms across their cheeks, and looking at one another only made it more endearing.
Ryan creeped into bed first, Naim following as their hearts drew them closer together. Something in their relationship shifted that night, something deep within their souls that brought them together. Their eyes never left one another, never once leaving each other's sight.
The lights were casted off, the A/C buzzed with cool air filling the room. Despite that, their skin felt hot. Ryan brushed his hands up Naim’s bare arms, shuffling closer until the space between them on the bed became almost nonexistent. Naim closed the distance, bringing Ryan closer to his body as their lips locked together. Ryan squeezed around his body, like he was making sure that this wasn’t his own dream.
Naim could feel the sleeping med begin to kick in, his eyes growing heavy and body growing limp. Ryan pulled away, pecking the top of his head as he watched the brunette fall asleep against his body. Their legs tangled and arms wrapped up in each other. It was messy, but it was them. And that was all that mattered, Ryan leaned in against Naim’s ear, whispering quietly, “I love you.”
Naim opened his eyes to an open field. It was the spot where Ryan first dragged him out to before the warehouse, where they wrestled against the dry, grassy earth. It was warm, making his skin feel hot under his hoodie. Ryan was in front of him, hands shoved into the pockets of his own jacket. They looked at one another, trying to gauge if the opposite was really them.
“Naim,” Ryan called, walking over to him at a brisk pace. Naim’s body shielded itself, cowering his shoulders together as the blonde came in front of him. His breath was trapped in his lungs, remembering the patterns of that thing that haunted them. But instead of the entity grabbing hold of him, warm hands wrapped over his own.
Slowly, Ryan brought Naim down to the field, their eyes never once breaking their gaze. Ryan reached up, brushing out the locks that hung in Naim’s eyes. The wind whisked around them, as if bringing them closer together. Their lips met in the silence of nature, only hearing the sounds of each other breathing in the other's air. As Ryan exhaled, Naim inhaled that same breath.
Their hearts felt at peace, far away from helicopter parents and a town who couldn’t accept love. That town tried to kill them, told them that their love was disgusting, something to hide and tuck away. To suck it up and find a nice girl and settle down instead of being themselves.
But when it was just them, in the quietness of the open field, with no lingering eyes to cast judgement upon them, it felt almost sinful to shun away from their love. This town didn’t want them, tried changing them down to casting a demon on the two. But, if anything they were only taught one thing:
Love prevails.
“...Naim? …Naim? Are you having a nightmare?” Naim grimaced at the early alarm, eyes pinched shut as the lamp light of Ryan’s bedside shined. Ryan’s hands were on his arms, holding him carefully as he woke him up. “You were talking and moving a lot, what happened?” Naim couldn’t blame the blonde for his worry, nightmares had been plaguing him since they left. But for the first time in days, he could say he slept peacefully, even with his dreams.
Naim shook his head no, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Not a nightmare, not at all,” Naim spoke with a softness, a fondness for what played in the tale of his dream. Ryan deflated a little bit, obviously feeling bad for waking him up so abruptly.
“Oh, ‘m sorry I thought-”
“It’s okay,” Naim cut him off, looking up at him with warmth flooding his eyes, “don’t apologize.” Ryan looked down at the mattress, feeling Naim’s body heat against his. Ryan slid his hand up Naim’s arm, feeling along the smooth skin.
“We were in a field, that one before you reached the warehouse,” Naim sleepily explained, “We were just there, sitting together.” Ryan hummed along. “It was peaceful, a nice sunny day, just us,” Naim whispered, slipping his arm around the blonde's side. It felt like a final goodbye to their old lives, and a hello to their freedom. They were gone from that small town, gone from prying eyes, they didn’t have to live in fear anymore, never again.
Ryan tucked Naim’s messy bangs back against his head, tracing his hairline with the tip of his pointerfinger. “Sounds wonderful, ‘m sorry to take you out of that.” Naim shook his head again, leaning in.
“Nothing compares to this,” Naim whispered against his lips. Ryan rested a hand on the back of Naim’s head, cradling it as their lips met in the middle. Ryan tasted of minty toothpaste and sweet gum that he was mindlessly chewing earlier. Naim welcomed it on his tongue, kissing him deeper.
Ryan’s hands settled on his waist, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush. From outside eyes it was hard to tell where Naim started and Ryan ended, so intertwined that their frames looked like one. Coming from a town that wanted nothing but to pull them apart, it felt like ecstacy being free.
Naim pulled away, kissing away the string of saliva that connected them, their eyes locked on one another as their heads fell to the pillow. That gaze was never broken, as if trying to lock the image of each other's face into their memory. The sleep that both were awakened from slowly began to creep in, eyes struggling to stay up as they fought to look at one another.
Naim, suddenly recalling the three words spoken to him before he fell asleep, rested hardly an inch away from Ryan. Whispering softly, “I love you too.” Both smiled with boyish laughter quietly forming between them. Their budding love was something to cherish, neither wanted it to ever end.
Sleeping didn’t feel as scary, that looming threat of nightmares washed away with the receding shoreline they played in. He was safe, and as long as he had Ryan he would be okay, because that was all that mattered to Naim, he would go anywhere, do anything, give himself up just to have Ryan by his side. And as Naim fell back under the spell of sleep, with Ryan’s face imprinted in his mind, all he wanted was to dream of him.